


GravesBeaksWeek 2020

by MadamKezzie



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24253516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamKezzie/pseuds/MadamKezzie
Summary: Boyd’s eleventh birthday is coming up, though technically, it would be his first with his parents. Falcon and Mark want to make sure it’s perfect for their baby boy.
Relationships: Gravesbeaks - Relationship
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	1. GravesBeaks Week 3.0: Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Day1 of 2020's Gravesbeaks week. The original prompts were Celebration/Surprises/Firsts. I went for a mix of Celebration and Firsts.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> \- Kezzie

Boyd was technically created as a ten year old child, and could live on as an immortal. Falcon and Mark wouldn’t lie, but the idea of having their son be a forever baby was very tempting; keeping their child as an adorable ball of cute had its appeal. Sadly, it wouldn’t have been fair on Boyd. While he was a robot, he was very life like, to the point no one could really tell from a single glance that he was anything but real. Boyd was a real boy, a real human, and growing up was apart of life. Though unsure, Falcon and Mark decided for Boyd’s eleventh birthday (technically his first birthday), he was going to get an upgrade. He was going to made a little taller, a little older, and even his feathers were going to get a bit more splash of colour - Mark figured Boyd needed a bit more ‘Gravesy’ in him, and the tips of Boyd’s silver feathers were going to be tinted brown, just like papa. They had a big present planned, but Mark wouldn’t be stopping there. Oh no no, it’s a birthday, a celebration for their only son. An upgrade is good, but Mark didn’t do simple and small. He had a party in mind, and a few thousands that he was ready to spend.

While Falcon was busy putting Boyd to bed, Mark was sat downstairs. Lounged back on the couch, Mark was on one of his many phones, the parrot having a different mobile for separate occasions - this was his 'shopping phone’.

Headphones on, music blasting way too loud for his own good, Mark swiped through the long, seemingly never ending list, of things for Boyd’s birthday party. Hundreds of dollars had already been dropped, Mark having only bought snacks and a few cute outfits he saw during his search. Boyd was going to be so utterly spoiled. He’s currently looking for their birthday cake, Mark debating if he should get chocolate, vanilla, or some combination of the two. Oooh…he could always get a two tier cake and get both flavors! With thick layers of fondue and frosting too! He grinned to himself, figuring that was a 'galaxy brain’ move on his part, and began to search for somewhere that could make such a thing - he’s willing to throw whatever amount of cash possible at them.

Too enamoured with his party planning, well, party buying, Mark hadn’t even noticed Falcon had returned downstairs, Boyd already fast asleep. It’s not enough his headphones are pulled off his head that Mark realises he’s no longer alone,

“Heeey!” Mark complains, reaching to snatch his headphones, “I was listening to that!”

“And I was talking to you,” Falcon grumbles, looking over the device until he finds the 'off’ button, “I want to discuss Boyd’s birthday with you.”

“Don’t you worry Gravesy,” Mark smirks, giving up on his music, “I already started, looking for a cake right now.”

“Oh, you were going to buy one?” Falcon asks, “I planned on baking him one myself." 

Plopping himself down on the couch, Falcon doesn’t even blink when Mark lifts his feet and rests them on his lap,

"I was thinking of making a Victorian Sponge,” A popular cake from his home country, “Vanilla flavoured, with a thick layer of Strawberry jam and Cream in the middle,” Falcon explains, “It’s usually dusted with icing sugar, but I’m sure I can make some buttercream icing instead…what do you think?”

Mark’s face said it all. Thick eyebrow had raised, Mark tilting his head forward and beak parted. Thumbs weren’t even tapping on his phone screen anymore, Mark giving him a 'are you kidding me’ glare. Falcon frowns, brown feathers idly bristling because of it,

“What?”

“Gravesy, I love you, but that is the most boring sounding cake I’ve ever heard.”

“Mark-” Falcon sighs,

“Nah, I already got the perfect idea,” Mark gloats, “Two tier, chocolate and vanilla, with thick fondant and icing all over.”

Falcon grimaced, teeth hurting from just the thought of the amount of sugar that said cake would have,

“Sounds a bit over the top and unnecessary,” Falcon mutters, “I think one tier should be enough.”

Mark’s beak dropped, again, high pitched noises of surprise leaving him. It’s obvious he’s being dramatic, per the usual for the parrot, but it’s been a while since that over-the-top nature was sent in Falcon’s direction,

“Falcon,” He says, voice high pitched and a near gasp, “This is our baby boy’s first birthday and you’re telling me NOT to go over the top?”

“Mark I-”

“Our darling son’s birthday and you decide that we have to be boring!” Once Mark starts, it’s hard to get him to stop, “Boyd deserves only the most expensive and best and you say 'no’?”

There’s a brief pause, where both Mark and Falcon just stare at each other in silence. After a moment, Falcon crosses his arms, and cocks his head to the side,

“You done?" 

"Yeah,” Mark smiles, relaxing back, “I think I got that outta my system.”

“Good, because I didn’t say you couldn’t be…extravagant Mark,” Falcon points out, “I just don’t think you need a cake that big for one little boy’s birthday.”

“Yeeaaaah…but I never got a cake like that,” Mark pouts, “And I don’t want Boyd to not have something he wants.”

“Did Boyd say he wanted that?”

“Well, no, but did he say he wants that boring sponge thing?” Mark quickly turns it back on Falcon,

“Alright, I’ll give you that,” Falcon smiles softly, “But, it’s not your birthday Mark, it’s Boyd’s…I think we should both see what he actually wants to do for his birthday, instead of deciding all these things.”

“I guess,” Mark shrugs, a little disappointed at the prospect of, maybe not, being able to throw a huge party, “Do wish you said that earlier though Gravesy.”

“…Why?”

Smile slowly spreads on Mark’s bill, the parrot fluttering his eyelashes in an 'I’m totally innocent’ matter. Bending his knees, Mark lifts himself up, soon twisting himself around and crawling over to Mark. Falling back onto his butt, scarlet feathers trapped beneath him and the back of the couch, Mark grins up at Falcon,

“I already ordered a few things." 

"Oh no.”

“You’re worrying over nothing,” Mark brushes him off, “Besides, it’s only a couple of cute outfits and some party food anyway.”

“Well, that’s not too bad…” Falcon starts to agree.

Then he remembered who he’s currently talking too. A 'couple’ and 'some’ aren’t little amounts to Mark,

“How many outfits, and how much food?”

“Enough food so we won’t need to buy groceries for at least three months.”

Falcon groans, head falling forward. Hand raises, Falcon pinching the small gap between his eyes. Mark chuckles quietly. Reaching up, slender fingertips lightly brush over the darker feathers that make up Falcon’s 'hair’,

“You have another grey hair,” Mark idly states,

“I have grey feathers because of you.”

“Nu-uh,” Mark smirks, “You love me too much to go grey because of me~”

“I wonder sometimes.”

Mark pouts, huffing, “Rude." 

Shaking his head, Falcon’s arms drop down. Tired eyes stay on Mark,  
"Alright, so, we have enough food for the whole of Duckburg,” Now Falcon’s the one being dramatic, “What outfits did you get?”

Now they’re talking. Swiping through his phone, Mark soon brings up his order, and shows off everything that’s coming their way. The first was a 'birthday’ outfit for Boyd’s special day: A white button up shirt, with a black vest jacket, and some jeans. Falcon would admit, it was a rather sweet ensemble. Mark then showed off the other clothing he found: a shirt with 'sailor loon’ written on it (one of Mark’s favored animes), a small tux (very similar to Falcon’s own), and a shirt that said 'my daddies spoil me’. Well, that was a very true statement, both Falcon and Mark were terrible for giving Boyd anything and everything he asks for - it’s just so impossible to say no to them.

“I think that’s enough for clothes,” Falcon casually states,

“Yanno, I think you’re right,” Mark, surprisingly, agrees, “We need to find toys for him now.”

As if Boyd didn’t have an entire playroom brimming with enough games to last him a life time. However, Mark had the solid, and sound, reasoning that those are 'old toys’ and Boyd should have up-to-date things. Well, Falcon can’t exactly argue with that…okay he could but he just didn’t feel like it. Mark would 'win’ anyway. Falcon may have managed to stop them from buying a bunch of stuff for a party Boyd may not even want, but he’s not going to be able to stop Mark from buying tons of presents for him. 

With Mark cuddling up to Falcon’s side, they spend a good two to three hours searching various websites, buying more than enough. Toys, plushes, games, and a few more clothes Mark managed to sneak in, and they had soon spent way more than Falcon wanted to even think about. At least that was one thing to do with Boyd’s birthday taken care of. Though Mark still tried to get a few more party related things, Falcon managed to stop him. They wanted Boyd’s birthday to be perfect, but neither of them knew how he’d react to a party. The last time Boyd was at a party, it didn’t exactly have the best ending. Falcon was still furious towards that McDuck child for being the reason he nearly lost his son. They soon called it a night, party planning could continue tomorrow.

Come morning, around the breakfast table, Mark, casually, brought up Boyd’s eleventh birthday. With a mouthful of pancakes, Boyd said he didn’t want a party, must to Mark’s own disappointment. He just wanted a day with his dad’s. He wanted them not to worry about phones or suits or Waddle, and that he just wanted a day where they do anything - as long as he was with them, Boyd already decided it was perfect. They asked if he was sure, to which Boyd said he was more than sure. Though a little apprehensive, Mark agreed, even if he was looking forward to taking thousands of party pictures. Boyd soon asks if he can still have cake though, and that lifted Mark’s spirit,

“Course you can Boyd,” Mark grins, “What type do you want?”

The android hum, thinking it over. There were so many options and designs that he had seen and been amazed by. Kicking his legs slightly, fake feathers fluffed,

“Chocolate…no, vanilla, maybe both!” Boyd tries to decides, “With frosting and fondant…please?" 

"I can do that,” Mark grins, throwing Falcon a 'I knew it’ look.

Falcon now understood how Mark felt about the lack of party, considering he was going to have to deal with two, very hyper, parrots in a few days. However, if that’s what Boyd wanted, then, he wouldn’t be able to tell them 'no’,

“Sounds delicious,” Falcon agrees softly, sipping at his morning tea, “Now eat up Boyd, we have to get ready for town today.”

His birthday came faster than expected, but Boyd thought it was perfect. He got to sleep in late, getting up at nine in the morning instead of seven. Papa Falcon let him eat in the living room, Boyd getting waffles with whipped cream for his first meal of the day. Daddy Mark presented his 'birthday outfit’, and Boyd absolutely adored it. They spent the morning in their pyjamas, watching cartoons while cuddled up beneath blankets. Around one they actually got dressed, Boyd asking if they can go to the park. They spent hours playing, Falcon pushing Boyd on the swing, or carefully spinning him on the round-a-bout, all while Mark recorded them or took pictures, his feed flooded with Boyd’s birthday photo’s.

In the evening, they did presents, Boyd attempting to give a few of his gifts to his parents; it took a bit of explaining until he understood that Boyd didn’t have to share his gifts on his birthday, as it’s his day and no one else’s. Boyd still insisted that his parents got to unwrap some though; they eventually relented. With more than enough gifts, dinner was next. They ended up cooking up a small selection of things, Mark’s over spending meaning they had a lot to get through. There were left overs for tomorrow morning for breakfast. Falcon’s never letting Mark do any form of food shopping by himself ever again. 

Finally, cake. Candles lit, Mark recorded as they both sang 'happy birthday’ to Boyd. They decided to go with 'one’ candles. While technically it was Boyd’s first ever birthday, he was now, supposed, to be eleven. Asked to make a wish, Boyd closed his eyes, and blew out his candles. Mark asked what he wished for, to which Boyd said he couldn’t tell or it would never come true. Mark huffs, but supposes that’s true. Slices cut, Boyd grins as he says this was the best birthday he’d ever had (really, the only one he ever had). Falcon says there’s still one more gift, to which Mark finishes the sentence by telling Boyd he can have an upgrade - if he wants it. Boyd, seeing the prospect of 'growing’ instantly agrees to it. Falcon says they’ll do it tomorrow, and Boyd beams in excitement. He doesn’t want to have to wait until tomorrow, but it’s been a long busy day. 

Cake eaten, and plates left for tomorrow, Falcon carries Boyd upstairs to bed, Mark hot on his talons as they follow. Laid to bed, Boyd thanks them for the best birthday, and mid yawn, murmurs how he has the best dad’s he could ever ask for. Tucked in, and kisses pressed to his forehead, Boyd soon shuts down for 'sleep’. Exhausted themselves, Falcon and Mark call it an early night, feeling proud at how Boyd’s first birthday went.


	2. GravesBeaks Week 3.0: Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since Doofus’s birthday, Boyd has been left with a fear of water. It’s easy to avoid during the day, but he can’t avoid the random nightmares. Thankfully, he has two parents who comfort and care for him, no matter the time of day - or night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts were: Preening/Comforting/Cuddling. I decided to go with comforting/cuddling.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> \- Kezzie

Boyd was sinking, he knew that. Ice cold surrounded him, nipping at his metal flesh, tugging on his fake feathers. Bright blue eyes were wide, beak left parted. He could do nothing but stare upwards, arms unable to move as joints began to spark. Water filled his body, various processors starting to shut down. Above him, at the surface, he could see the blurred figures of his parents. He could hear their voices, calling for him, watching as they reached down to try and save him. Boyd couldn’t move though, couldn’t reach up. Metal was rusting, dissolving and falling away. Boyd tried to move, tried to do anything, but he couldn’t. The water was consuming him, claiming him. Destroying him. Boyd’s last ditch effort, was to try and scream. Gurgled and pained, nothing but bubbles escapes him. The World around him grows darker, colder. The light in his eyes flickers, slowly growing dim -

Boyd woke with a start, body sitting upright in bed. Chest heaved as he panted, processors whirling loudly as they went into over drive. While he was happy to be able to dream, he didn’t know there would be nightmares and terrors. He’d always been terrified of water, not that he knew why. Whenever he tried to bring up memories to do with water, there would be no more than error messages and glitched out visuals. He asked his parents if they knew what happened, but they simply said that Boyd had gone to a party and he fell into the swimming pool. They apparently couldn’t fix the memory. Maybe that was for the best. Regardless, Boyd was left terrified of large bodies of water; pools, lakes, the ocean…it made his skin crawl. 

And left him having nightmares.

Sniffling, Boyd looked at the time. It’s three in the morning. He really should head back to bed, but, he doesn’t want to. Not alone at least. Grabbing his teddy bear, and holding it tight, he unplugs himself from his charger; he’s at about sixty percent, that should be enough. Climbing down from his bed, Boyd held his comforting plush against his chest, and headed out into the hallway. Eyes blinked, hues growing bright as they act as torches. Illuminating the hallway, he carefully closed his bedroom door, not wanting to make too much noise. Glancing around, he scurried along, not wanting to waste any time. His house was scary at night.

Running up to other room, Boyd paused briefly. He suddenly had a thought; would he get in trouble for being up at this time? He has a good reason to be up after all. It’s not like he was up to get snacks or play games. He…he had a nightmare. Taking a deep breath, Boyd opened the door to his parents bedroom. Bright eyes were still on, it was enough to get both Falcon and Mark to stir; the sudden light piercing through the darkness of their room. A mixture of soft groans and huffs leave the pair on the bed, Mark and Falcon wriggling around as they forced themselves to wake up. Mark grabbed a pillow, shoving it over his head. Falcon sits himself up, balancing on his elbows. He’s squinting, eyebrows furrowed hard, eyes stinging from the sudden light,

“Mmh Boyd?” He huffs, “What are you doing up?”

“I…I had a nightmare,” Boyd mutters, “I’m sorry…" 

"It’s okay,” Falcon sighs out, “Want to sleep in our bed for the rest of the night?”  
Boyd nodded, “Yes please." 

"Alright, turn your lights off." 

Boyd closed his eyes, keeping them shut until the lights in his eyes turned off, returning to their usual dim blue glue. Walking over to Falcon’s side of the bed, Boyd threw his teddy up first, before jumping and grabbing the side of the bed. He grunted, struggling to climb up. Falcon leaned over the side of the bed, large arm scooping Boyd up, despite the awkward angle. He lifts his son up, and plops him down in between himself and Mark. By this point, Mark had tugged his head out from under his pillow. There’s a dopey smile on his face, half asleep. His poor baby, having a nightmare. Mark grabbed the bear Boyd had chucked onto the bed originally, handing it back to them.

The little parrot wriggled around, kicking the hems of the blankets slightly as he sunk into their bed. Sandwich between his two dads, Boyd lightly trills, grinning. Mark shuffles forward, draping a slender arm over Boyd, hand resting on Falcon’s side. He nuzzles his beak against the side of Boyd’s temple, pressing a soft kiss to them,

"Was it the water nightmare again?” Mark asks,

“Yeah…” Boyd says,

“Would you like to talk about it?” Falcon asks, getting comfortable himself,

“No thank you.”

Falcon and Mark exchange a look, one of understanding and concern. They’d been teaching Boyd to open up about things, and that it’s okay to talk about his nightmares, worries, anything on their mind. Still, they both knew not to pry into him - that could also cause problems in the future. Falcon rolls onto his side, arm sliding beneath the pillow Boyd was resting his head on, propping them up slightly. With arms curled around him, Boyd smiled, feeling comforted already. Just being cuddled up with his dads was enough to help him relax, the nightmare that had plagued him already starting to fade. Boyd quietly yawns, sinking down,

“What’s your battery life at Boyd?” Falcon asks, voice soft,

“Sixty percent…” He murmurs, body starting to go into ‘sleep mode’.

Mark looks up at Falcon. They both know Boyd’s definitely going to need a nap in order to keep his energy up, though, there’s a good chance they’ll be joining in with that midday snooze too,

“Okay, we’ll charge you later,” Mark mutters, yawning quietly.

Boyd nods his head, soft noise leaving him. It sounds like an 'okay’, but it’s hard to tell as sleep is already claiming him. Exhausted themselves, Mark and Falcon curl around their son; he doesn’t have heat stimuli, Mark needing to figure out some bugs, so they don’t have to worry about him getting too warm. Though, by the way he’s grinning brightly in his sleep, implies he’s quite content being held like this. 

Falcon rests his head above Boyd’s head, Mark nuzzling his hooked bill against the side of Boyd’s face again. The parrot softly trilled, quiet noises meant to soothe, though it seemed like Boyd was already asleep. Falcon himself joined in with the trilling, the noises vibrating around the small parrots being. Though his half asleep state, Boyd managed to breathe out one last thing,

“I love you dads…" 

"We love you too,” Falcon soothes, eyes fluttering shut,

“Forever and always,” Mark adds, trills a little louder now.

It’s late, it’s time to sleep once more. Boyd was still scared of water, but thankfully, he knew he was safe here, within the comfort and warmth of his parents arms. They always made him feel so cared for, made sure he felt loved and wanted. With his nightmares soothed, Boyd lets himself shut down once more, slipping back into the void that was sleep. He had no more nightmares that night, his dads having scared them all off for him.


	3. GravesBeaks Week 3.0: Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing up a robot, Boyd always had a love for organic life, and now older, he owns his own flower shop, so he can surround himself with all the life he wants. Opening up for the day, he’s pleasantly surprised when his parents come in for a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts: Future Life/AU/Free Day  
> I went with future life 
> 
> Enjoy  
> \- Kezzie

The scent of roses and sunflowers were thick, that fresh floral scent hanging onto ever inch of the air. Growing up an android, Boyd had always had a love and want to be organic. While he had long accepted he would never be flesh and blood like everyone else, it didn’t mean he couldn’t surround himself with life. Watch it grow and bloom, much like he did. Every year his parents had upgraded his body, and though they had said goodbye to their adorable ‘forever-beaks-baby’, as his dad Mark liked to call him, it did give him a chance to grow like any normal child. Really, his parents had done an incredible job at raising him. Really though, unless one where to know Boyd, no one would be able to tell he wasn’t human. He had all the senses, the stimuli to feel temperature. He could panic and cry and eat; he breathed air and felt emotion…his parents care for him, and to Boyd, that made him real enough. 

Now an adult, he had his own life. Boyd had his own home and little business, a flower shop that he adored, but honestly, he spent so much time visiting his family home, he may as well still live there. He saw them all the time, Boyd determined to keep them in his life as much as physically possible; both Falcon and Mark happily agreed to this, more than elated that he was still so intertwined with their family. Though never voiced, both of them had always worried that, once Boyd was grown, he’d move on to his own adventures and leave them behind. They were prepared for an empty nest that, thankfully, never emptied.

Lank body dragged itself across the pristine wooden floor, Boyd making sure to always keep his little flower shop dust free. Turning the sign from 'closed’ to 'open’, he unlocked the door and held it open. Using a plant pot to prop it open, Boyd breathed in deep. The feeling of fresh air on his feathers were welcomed and needed. Another day was here, and he had flowers to tend and sell. Stretching out his arms, Boyd retreated back inside, and got to work. Music player on, free instrumental tunes drifting over the air, Boyd found out various spritzer bottles. He smiled to himself, recalling how his dad used to use them to clean him when he was younger.

Filling it was cool water, Boyd made sure the lid was screwed on tight; he didn’t want any spillages now. Starting with the flowers nearest the door, he delicately sprayed their leaves with water. Droplets glistened in the low light that swam through the windows, golden rays illuminating everything in its path. Boyd’s own silver feathers shone, revealing the small tints of brown at the tips of his plumage; Mark had started adding those dashes of colour when he hit puberty, having wanted to put some more of his papa Falcon’s DNA into him. Boyd rather liked it, especially seeing they looked golden in the sunlight. Humming to himself, Boyd worked on his plants,

“Good morning miss Rose,” He idly spoke to them, carefully feeling over their leaves, “Did we sleep well?”

He’s aware they can’t talk back, but he knew that talking to plants could be therapeutic, and good for the plants themselves. Continuing to sing quietly, Boyd kept working, though, his little sing-song was interrupted. There was a soft knock against the door, though it was still open. Boyd’s head perked up, bright blue eyes starting to glow, literally, with glee upon seeing his papa Falcon walking inside,

“Knock knock,” Falcon smiles, “You are open right?”

Boyd grins, jumping up and running forward, wrapping his arms around Falcon’s waist. They stumble back, Falcon just able to catch himself from falling over; sometimes they both forget how strong Boyd truly was. Nuzzling his face against Falcon’s chest, Boyd trills quietly, red tail feathers twitching as he does. Falcon hugs him back, smiling just as bright. He lifts his hand and carefully strokes Boyd’s hair, lightly laughing. Boyd gives them a small squeeze, lifting his head up,

“My shop is always open for you papa, you know that,” Boyd tells them, soon hugging them even tighter, “I missed you.”

“You saw us last night,” He tries not to sound in too much pain, despite the small bit of crushing Boyd is giving him, “I missed you too though kiddo.”

Stepping back, Boyd smiled up at them He soon places his hands behind his back, fingers interlacing. Feet together, he smiles, turning from 'loving son’ to 'loving son that is now serving a customer’,

“So, papa, how may I help you today?” Boyd asks, “I have tons of flowers blooming thanks to the nice weather we’ve been having.”

“I can see that,” Falcon can also smell it, beak having been assaulted by the floral scent before he even stepped inside, “Anyway, it’s one of Mark’s and I anniversary tomorrow-”

“The twenty first of October, the day you and daddy Mark first met,” Boyd smiles, easily recalling the date with a single blink of his eyes,

“That’s the one,” Falcon confirms, “I was hoping to get some flowers order and delivered for him.”

“Of course! I can give you to them as a bouquet or fashioned in a certain shape?”

“A bouquet is fine,” Falcon likes simple, “Any recommendations Boyd?" 

Boyd’s eyes widen slightly, blue eyes soon faded to a familiar rainbow coloured circle that spiral. He tilts his head, mind briefly shut off so he can retreat to the archives of the internet. In seconds, he had thousands of answers running through his mind, head idly nodding as he pulled up various pieces of information. One arm lifts, index finger pointed as he lists,

"Red roses are the traditional choice for anniversaries, however, many have said that Peonies, Ranunculus, Tulips, Alstroemeria -

"Boyd-” Falcon tries to get their attention, having already heard enough options,

“Sunflowers, Orchids, Carnations-”

“Boyd.”

“Iris’s, Gardenias’s, and Casa Blanca Lilies are also well loved choices.”  
Eyelids flutter, Boyd’s eyes returning to normal as he shuts down the search engine in his head. It’s one little tick Mark had yet to work out of him; whenever he needed to use his search, Boyd would practically forgot what he was doing, where he was standing, and give every detail of found information - even Falcon trying to get Boyd’s attention didn’t faze them. Hopefully on Boyd’s next birthday, they’ll have an answer to that little issue with his system. Falcon smiles. Though it can be a little annoying when it happens, he knows it’s something Boyd can’t help; it would be wrong of him to scold them, even lightly, for the fact Boyd had ignored him,

“Thank you Boyd,” Falcon thinks over the options careful, “I think Peonies and Ranunculus could look nice, maybe with some of those Casa Blanca orchids?" 

"Wonderful choice Papa!” Honestly, anything Falcon wanted would have received a positive response, “Follow me.”

Turning on his heels, Boyd scurried forward, Falcon easily on the back of his talons as they headed over to the counter. Boyd slipped behind it, bending down and grabbing various plastics, colourful ribbons and decorations. Popping them on the surface, Boyd soon stood up, gesturing over the various items he had brought out,

“Plain plastic or light blue polka dots?” Boyd asks,

“Plain.”

“What colour ribbon would you like?” He goes on, 

“Do you have bright blue? You know it’s Mark’s favourite colour." 

Boyd frowns, shaking his head softly. He did have blue, but it was a navy blue as opposed to the bright cerulean tone his dad Mark much prefers. Falcon decided to go with the navy as it’s the closest he can currently get. Finally, it comes down to the little decorations. There’s a bright red heart, a star covered in complacence amounts of golden glitter, and a black butterfly with bright blue glitter that lines the rings. Falcon decides the star is the best option, knowing how Mark loves bright flashy things, and the most glittery option would probably make Mark the happiest. Boyd agrees, knowing of all the times Mark tried to spruce up his life and how any presents he wrapped would be mostly tape and glue and glitter than actual wrapping paper.  
With everything picked out, Boyd types on his little till,

"Okay so, that’s one large bouquet with three flowers, plain paper, blue ribbon, and a star decoration,” He lists, ignoring how his papa reaches into his pocket to grab his wallet, “Applying the family discount, that’ll be…” Till screen flashes up at zero, “Zero dollars and one bowl of vanilla ice cream tonight after dinner." 

Falcon freezes, dumbfound by his apparent amount. It takes a moment, but he soon laughs quietly, shaking his head, brown feathers fluffing up, 

"Boyd, I have to pay you for your service.

"You are paying me,” Boyd states, “You’re total is a bow of Vanilla ice cream…preferably with sprinkles and chocolate sauce?”

He smiles, innocently, fluttering his eyelashes cutely in order to sway his Papa Falcon. While it’s not the best business model, he didn’t feel comfortable charging either of his dads any amount of money. Falcon sighs,

“I’m paying you with cash.”

“You say ice cream in a weird way Papa.”

Boyd was just as stubborn as both his parents, and it was very clear he wasn’t going to be taking any other form of payment. So Falcon sighs, and agrees to the terms; he’s sure he’ll find a way to pay Boyd for said flowers - maybe he’ll just get Mark to electronically send some. Boyd grins, proud of how it all went down, and informs Falcon that his flowers will be ready for pick up tomorrow morning, eleven sharp. With one final hug goodbye, Falcon heads off, reminded Boyd to be good and to let him know if there’s any trouble, Boyd tells him not to worry, and to not forget he’s owed a bowl of delicious ice cream.

A few hours passed, and with it being a naturally slow day, Boyd decided to start preparing his papa’s flowers. Spreading out the plain plastic, he carefully places a star decoration in place. He goes to gather the flowers, when there’s another set of footsteps scurrying inside. Boyd lifts his head, grinning when he see’s his other dad running in. Mark was panting quietly, his feathers ruffled. Boyd quickly walks over to them, smiling,

“Hey dad,” Boyd greets, “Are you okay?" 

Mark nodded his head, breathlessly explaining that he 'escaped’ from papa to come visit his shop because he needed help. Boyd frowns, immediately concerned at the word 'help’. Had something happened? Was someone hurt? Feathers bristling, he was more than ready to sprint out of his store and make sure everything was okay; he wouldn’t even care if someone came into his shop and robbed the place while he was away,

"What happened? Is papa okay?" 

"Yeah yeah, he’s fine, but I won’t be!” Mark exclaims, “I totally spaced and forgot it’s our anniversary tomorrow! Think you can get me some flowers ready?”

Boyd gives a small sigh of relief, happy to know no one was hurt. He soon smiles, chuckling softly. He’s rather tempted to point out that Papa Falcon was in earlier to ask for the exact same sort of gift, but he opts to keep his beak shut. No need to ruin the surprise after all. Nodding his head, Boyd clasped his hands together, giving a small trill,

“Of course dad!” Boyd chirps, “You just need to tell me what you’d like?”

Mark was on his phone, something Boyd had grown up with, he was rather used to his dad being able to hold two conversations at once. Mark’s thumbs were fast on the screen, their thick eyebrows furrowed,

“Okay okay, internet says roses are uber traditional.”

Papa Falcon was a traditional, simple sort of man. He didn’t need a fuss to be made of him, didn’t need big elaborate gifts of gestures. Roses were the perfect, traditional, romantic choice, and both parrots knew Falcon would absolutely adore them. Agreeing with the idea, Boyd had Mark follow him back over to his counter. While the plastic and decorations for, what would soon be Mark’s gift, were still out, there was no way of them knowing it was for them. He went through the same conversation with Mark. They went with a wrapping covered in a pastel pink heart pattern, and the butterfly decoration, the black plastic wings being decorated with bright blue glitter. Mark thought the change in colour would make them pop.

Tapping in everything, Boyd soon rang up the total. Much like Falcon’s, Boyd claimed it didn’t cost a single penny, and instead, he asked for them to order pizza that night. Mark was surprised they didn’t ask for ice cream, knowing Boyd had an affinity for the delectable frozen treat. Boyd just waved it off, claiming dessert was already sorted out. Mark, unlike Falcon, didn’t protest the idea of ordering food instead of giving them money, even openly teasing that this was a bad business model. Boyd laughed it off, assuring him that only he and Papa Falcon got the luxury of a full family discount. Mark agreed to pizza, any excuse to not have to eat the healthy food Falcon forces him to try, and internally decided to send Boyd the money he deserves another way. 

With payment taken care of, Boyd informs Mark that his flowers won’t be ready until eleven tomorrow morning. Mark, thankful he won’t have to get up majorly early, thanks him for the help and quickly leaves; he’s been gone for nearly forty minutes, and it’s likely Falcon is looking for him. Waving them goodbye , he goes back to preparing his earlier order, only to freeze. He had told both his parents to come for a pick up at the same time. He stares at the plastic in front of him, Boyd swallowing thickly. He’s sure it’ll be fine though, after all, it saves them from trying to sneak back with their flowers. Oh well, he’s sure they won’t mind, and he’ll even get to see his parents reactions to getting their bouquets. At least Boyd knows he can enjoy that. Sighing happily, he figures it’ll be best to get their flowers ready, instead of dwelling on the fact they’ve got the same pick up times.


	4. GravesBeaks Week 3.0: Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Falcon are in charge of taking Boyd, and his friends the McDuck triplets, to Funzo’s. Falcon hates it, the various noises and kids giving him a headache. Mark tries to soothe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's Prompts: Laughter/Blushing/Fun  
> I went with Laughter/Fun.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> \- Kezzie

When Boyd had asked to bring friends home, Mark and Falcon were elated. Boyd had always struggled to socialize and make friends, so the fact he had managed to meet some kids his age and got along with them, well, they couldn’t be prouder of him. Falcon and Mark were rather excited to meet the kids that their boy got along with. They got some snacks and juice for the kids, and coffee and tea for the adults, and waited for them go come over. However, whatever excitement they felt immediately diminished when they opened the door, only to see part of the McDuck clan on their doorstep. Falcon had bristled his feathers, ready to tell them to leave their property, but thankfully for them, Boyd ran up and greeted them. With a bright grin, he hugged the triplets, welcoming them to his home.

Falcon, Mark, and the two other adult ducks (Donald and Della), shared a look that just screamed ‘oh no’.

For the sake of their children, the two grown up’s acted their ages, and despite a few snippy words exchanged between Mark and Della, they all managed to come to an agreement that would benefit the kids. Every Saturday they would alternate on who watched the four children on their play dates. While they were a smart group they were prone to trouble, and it was agreed between them that they needed to make sure they were under some form of supervision at all times. Were they happy that their kids were friends? No, not really, but it would be wrong for any of them to even try and force them to stop hanging out. So they bit their tongues, and decided to do their bests - for the kids sake.

It was Mark’s and Falcon’s Saturday to babysit. 

They were all in the living room, the kids discussing what they should do today. Mark and Falcon were off to the side, quietly chatting themselves as they half-payed attention to the kids own conversation. One name though popped up, repeatedly, and it began to make Falcon’s blood run cold. Funzo’s. While he had never been, he knows exactly what type of place it is. Part of him debates on letting Mark take the reigns and take the group to that over-priced arcade by himself , but considering Mark was essentially a child in an adult’s body, well, that would lead to disaster. It didn’t take long until Boyd had jumped down from his seat and was at his parents perch, asking them to take them all to Funzo’s. To be fair, Boyd had never been, so of course he was immediately interested in the idea of a giant Arcade. Didn’t help the McDuck’s brought up the 'great’ food, the ball pit and the prizes. Mark was on board pretty quick, and though Falcon would literally be doing anything else, he knows it’s one against five. So with a hefty sigh, Falcon agrees to take them down to Funzo’s for the afternoon.  
It’s going to be a long day.

The scent of cardboard pizza, questionably clean surfaces, and old mascot costumes that got washed maybe once a year, hit them like a brick. How any of the kids enjoyed this, neither Mark or Falcon would understand. Giving Boyd some money to go play games, they watched as the four ran ahead to go and play. Falcon and Mark opted to go sit in the small eating area; it’s an elevated area that let them see mostly everything. They could stay far away from the dozens of children scurrying around, with their sticky fingers and their lack of supervision.

They’re barely an hour in, and Falcon isn’t sure he can actually take it anymore. The noises, constant flashing lights, the damn disgusting smell. He grunted, raising his fingers to his temples, starting to rub circles against his mind in an attempt to dwell the growing migraine. He swears he and Mark are the only adults that actually stayed here to watch their own kids, instead of abandoning them for the employees to be held liable. Mark was completely invested in watching the boys, a giant grin upon his bill. However, he soon notices Falcon’s discomfort. Looking over at them, he frown,

“You okay there Gravesy?” Mark asks,

“Can we go home yet?” Falcon grunts, eyebrows furrowed a little.

Mark can’t help but snicker a little. Usually it’s him whining that he’s bored and wants to go home. It’s rather funny, and cathartic, to see that the show is on the other talons for once. Laughing quietly, Mark shakes his head,

“Sorry Falc, it’s only been an hour.”

Bowing his head, Falcon moves to pinch the gap between his eyes. Why the Hell did he agree to this. He should’ve just trusted Mark to take them here and look after him, at least then Falcon would’ve been able to stay at home where he would be comfortable. Where he wouldn’t be surrounded by children all day, having to try and block out the screams of kids, or stop himself from trying to throw up. Nausea was churning in his stomach. The scent of that damn old, probably frozen and 'recycled’ pizza making him feel beyond sick. 

Mark reaches out, having to lean over the table in order to take a hold of Falcon’s hand. Thin fingers interlace with Falcon’s own, squeezing their palm gently, in an attempt to soothe him. Mark knows Falcon is really not enjoying himself, and probably would want to be anywhere but here. Sadly, they both know that neither Mark, or the kids, could truly be left alone for too long. Mark did feel for Falcon. It can’t be fun for someone like Falcon, to be trapped here. Mark, while using one hand to hold Falcon’s, carefully used his legs to drag himself and his chair around,

“Wanna rest your head on my shoulder boo?" 

It would both be the perfect excuse for some public affection, Mark had to flex on all the parents that did stay to watch their kids, and take some selfies of him and his 'boo’. Falcon though, shakes his head. Though the migraine can practically be seen forming, his eyes looking hazed from the growing ache, Falcon was stubborn. He wouldn’t leave Mark in charge, that’s a lot of responsibility for one parrot with the attention span of a goldfish, and an attitude as bad as some of the brats that were storming around,

"I’ll be fine Mark,” Falcon halfheartedly assures him, “It’s just a headache." 

Mark tilts his head, giving a quiet coo. Leaning over, he nuzzles his bill against the side of Falcon’s neck, quietly 'twittering’ in an attempt to comfort him. Sure, Mark knows he can’t just soothe away the headache with soft noises, but, it doesn’t mean he can’t try. Falcon enjoys the gentle noises Mark gives, trying to focus on them. It doesn’t stop him from partially hiding his face in his hands though, attempting to block out everything as his sense were continuously assaulted.

The silver parrot sighed quietly, eyes flickering to the side. Grin slowly tugs back onto his dark grey bill, silver feathers lightly fluffing. He may not be able to cheer Falcon up, but he knows something that can. Lightly tapping Falcon’s shoulder, Mark beams at him as they look up at him,

"Yes Mark?" 

"Look." 

Mark points out to the main hall, over the railing and to the main ball pit. Falcon lifted himself up, tired gaze following where Mark was pointing. They were bringing his attention to Boyd, and, his heart near enough melted. Boyd was beaming like the sun, perhaps even brighter. Falcon could see from his perch, that his little boy’s feathers were fluffed to their fullest. They were laughing, jumping and running around with the McDuck triplets. Falcon had no idea what game they were playing, but, whatever it was, Boyd was having a complete blast at it. 

Grin raises onto Falcon’s own hooked beak. Watching Boyd having so much fun definitely was a sight to see. He can’t remember the last time he saw Boyd play with so much enthusiasm. Not that they didn’t play when he was at home, but, this was a new energised side of their boy Falcon didn’t get to see. Mark stood up from his seat, phone in hand and camera recording. He began to yell, waving one arm,

"Boyd! BOYD! Up Here!”

Boyd’s head snapped up. Immediately he started waving back, Falcon joining in; not with as much enthusiasm, but still enough so that Boyd won’t be able to tell something was wrong. Falcon may not be having the best afternoon in this place, but Boyd was clearly enjoying himself and he didn’t want to ruin that for him. Boyd’s attention was soon taken off of them, as one of the triplets called him to 'help’ in their game. The little parrot twisted around and ran off, disappearing into the large wooden ship. 

Mark turned off his phone, slipping it back into his pocket. Returning to his seat, Mark pats Falcon’s shoulder, 

“I know you hate it here, but Boyd’s having fun.”

“I know I know,” Falcon sighs, “I’ll grin and bear it, don’t worry." 

"Tell you what Gravesy, when we get home, Imma warm you a warm bath with all the fancy soap you collect but never use,” Mark tells him, “Sound fair for staying here?”

Falcon nods his head, the idea of a warm bath to scrub off the scent of this place of him sounding very appealing. So he agrees to at least smile when Boyd was around and act like he’s having an enjoyable time. While Boyd was away though, Mark would try and soothe away Falcon’s headache, reassuring him that dinner was his duty tonight and he wasn’t going to need to worry about a single thing when they got home. Until then, Falcon would bare it, wave at Boyd when he looked up at them, and enjoy the sight of his son having so much fun.


	5. GravesBeaks Week 3.0: Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boyd had been looking forward to their beach day all week; it’s a shame the weather takes such an awful turn. Thankfully, Mark and Falcon know how to cheer their son up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts: Family/Domestic life/Stuck at home  
> Technically this could be classed as 'domestic life', but i leaned more on the 'stuck at home' and 'family' aspect.  
> Enjoy!  
> \- Kezzie

They’d been planning this trip to the beach for weeks. Boyd constantly checked the weather, and every time, it said that they were to expect sunny skies this Friday. Mark had bought brand new swimming clothes and towels, just for the occasion, alongside an overly expensive plastic basket so Boyd can build sandcastles and have a good time. Falcon had spent all night making sandwiches and cooking other small snacks for them to enjoy while there; they could go to a boardwalk cafe but they’re known for charging an arm and a leg. Not that they couldn’t afford it, Falcon just didn’t see the point in spending so much money when they can bring their own lunch. Beyond excited about the prospect of his first Beach Trip, Boyd could barely sleep that night. Thankfully, once his battery was low enough, he entered ‘sleep mode’ and was able to get some rest - much to his parents delight. It wouldn’t be much fun if their baby was cranky all day.

Boyd was awoken by a loud, booming clasp of thunder, the child near enough jumping out of his feathers. Blinking, he rubbed his eyes, and took his gaze to the window. Thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There were no blue skies or beaming sun as the many forecasts had promised, but instead, seas of dark grey covered the horizon. Rain poured down, pelting the floor, as lightning cracked the darkened skies. Boyd knelt on his bed, not believing what he saw. It was raining, hard, and there were absolutely no chances of it letting up soon. Boyd’s shoulders slumped forward, disappointed frown tugging onto his beak.

So much for that beach trip…

With a heavy sigh, Boyd slips out of bed. Leaning forward he drags himself out of his room and downstairs. Mark and Falcon were already up, they usually were awake before Boyd got up, and they shared the same disappointment currently weighing their son down. One look at him said it all. They all knew that they couldn’t go out today, sadly, which meant they’d be cooped up in doors. Boyd gave a soft 'morning’, as he clambered up onto his seat. Even as a plate of Pancakes, with various fruits and syrups covering the fluffy treat, Boyd can barely manage a smile. Picking up his fork, he lightly prods at his breakfast, not really in the mood to eat. Mark and Falcon frown, sitting the the table as well. They know Boyd’s upset, but sadly, they can’t control the weather.

“Hey sunshine,” Falcon soothes, “Just because we can’t go to the beach today, doesn’t mean we can’t go another day." 

"Yeah, we’ll go when the rain isn’t being a total bummer,” Mark chimes in.

Body nods his head, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. It was, honestly, so strange seeing their usual beaming boy look so down. It’s understandable, but still odd in its own right. Mark slid out his phone, casually starting to scroll through his feed. Boyd wasn’t the only one disappointed with the sudden change in weather. However, eyes soon widen slightly as he scrolls passed one post. Quickly returning to it, the parrot’s eyes lit us, grin spreading upon his beak. The photo gave him the perfect idea on how to turn this day around. Locking his phone, he places it on the table,

“Hey Boyd, why don’t you go and have your breakfast in your room,” Mark suggests, “Put on a movie and get comfortable for a moment.”

Falcon shot Mark a look, as there had always been a house rule against having food in the bedroom. Mark though just flashes him a grin, a glimmer in his eyes that screams 'let it slide this time’. Falcon, not wanting to upset Boyd any further, is quick to relent, agreeing to Mark’s idea. Boyd, unsure of what his parents were planning, jumps down from his seat without another word. Carefully taking the plate from the table, the child wanders off upstairs. Falcon waits until Boyd is out of earshot, before letting his smile drop. Giving Mark a, somewhat stern, look, he places his hands on his hips,

“Alright Mark, what are you up to?" 

Mark chuckles, standing up. Taking his phone, he quickly brings up that previous post he saw. Shoving his mobile into Falcon’s face, he trills quietly, excited and knowing exactly what to do. Catching the small smile tugging onto Falcon’s beak, he knows he’s got a good idea,

"Okay Gravesy, here’s the plan!” Mark exclaims, sure this is going to work, “I know how we’re gonna make our Boyd happy again.”

—-

Boyd was sat in his room, Pancakes barely touched, the boy only really taking a few bites and having a couple pieces of fruit. He knew he needed to eat a little more than that, but, he couldn’t bring himself to. He’d never felt disappointment before. Sure, the weather could be unpredictable, but, there had been no signs of rain. He’d been so excited to see the beach. His dad’s had told them about how amazing it was. The feel of sand beneath talons, the smell of salt and fried food from the boardwalk, the thousands of shells Boyd wanted to collect. He sighs, collapsing back against his mountain of pillows. He just tries to focus on the movie he had put on, though, it’s hard to concentrate thanks to the rain outside.

There’s a soft knock at his door. Boyd leans his head to the side, calling out,

“Come in!”

Door opens, and in steps Mark. They’re in a familiar pair of shorts, and tropical patterns shirt; it’s the same outfit he had worn when he took Boyd to Doofus’s party. Boyd raised an eyebrow, head tilting back and forth in obvious confusion,

“Uhm, dad, why are you wearing that?” He asks, dumbfounded,

“Because we’re going to the beach.”

Boyd stares at them, only more confused now. The crash of thunder only punctuates his lack of understanding. It’s still clearly storming outside, so, how can they be going anywhere. Mark chuckles softly at their reaction, wishing he hadn’t left his phone downstairs so he could capture Boyd’s face. Walking closer, he slips his hand into Boyd’s, squeezing their palm gently. Silver feathers fluffed, Mark smiles at them,

“Trust me, we’re going to the beach, and you’re going to love it.”

Boyd blinks slowly, unable to say a damn thing. So instead, he gives a nod to his head, and lets his dad lead him out of his bedroom and downstairs. Boyd immediately picks up on the sound of…water. Crashing water, paired with the soft calls of Seagulls overheard. Boyd glanced up at Mark, awaiting some form of explanation. None comes. Boyd starts to walk ahead, heading into the living room, and, he freezes.

The furniture has been pushed to the walls, some turned over and covered in fabric to stay 'hidden’. On the large window, and door that led to the garden, was a crudely cut out 'sun’ that had been taped up, along side some black tick like shapes - clearly supposed to be seagulls. There was a paddling pool set up, full with water, and a much shallower pool filled with brightly coloured sand; Boyd recognised it as the kinetic sand he was sometimes allowed to play with. There were paper shells upon the sand, not the best made, clearly rushed and done by two people will little craft skills to them. Picnic blanket had been laid out, the snacks Falcon had made last night. 

Boyd’s jaw was parted in surprise. He looks up at Mark, then over to Papa Falcon, who was sat on the picnic blanket. His mind is slow to process things, rather surprised by the new layout being presented to him. Mark speaks up, worried that maybe this hadn’t cheered Boyd up like he had hoped,

“Well, we know you were totally bummed out 'cause of the rain,” Mark started, “So, I thought, instead of taking you to the beach.”

“We’ll bring the beach to you,” Papa Falcon finishes.

Boyd lifts his hands, rubbing his eyes. Beak closes, large smile spreading onto his face. Feathers are fluffing up, as he begins to giggle, tears pricking his eyes. Mark bends down next to him, placing a palm on their shoulder. Tilting his head, Mark tries to catch their gaze,

“Boyd, are you okay?”

He sniffles, lifting his hand. He’s beaming that usual sun bright smile he always have. He hadn’t started crying because he was upset, he had started crying because he was so overwhelmed and joy. Turning, he wraps his arms around Mark tightly, nuzzling his face against Mark’s chest,

“You and Papa are the best." 

Mark is quick to hug him back, squeezing him lightly. He lightly trills, reluctantly letting go of Boyd. Mark tells him to go get his beach outfit on, or his pyjamas would get ruined. Boyd nods his head frantically, turning and running off to go get changed. Mark and Falcon grinned at each other, proud that they had managed to cheer their son up. Sure, it was still a shame they were stuck at home today, but at least they could still have their own mini beach day within their house. No other people to bother them, no sudden storms to get in their way. It would just be their little family, a paddling pool full of tap water, and some crudely made decorations.


	6. GravesBeaks Week 3.0: Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s date night! Both Mark and Falcon dress to impress each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's Prompts: Wink/Flirty/Date night   
> Decided to use all the prompts for this day.   
> Enjoy!  
> \- Kezzie

Mark adored and loved Falcon with all his heart, he really did; it’s why he’s currently putting himself through a light version of torture. Well, torture for him. Mark did not do ‘suits’. He found them stiff, boring, and beyond uncomfortable. Getting to stare and drool over Falcon in one was different, as the smarter attire clung to his form perfectly. For Mark though? He’d rather wear anything else. Standing in front of the full length mirror in his bedroom, Mark squirmed where he stood. The usual comfortable hoodie and jeans he would go for had been folded for the evening, the parrot having opted for something far more…professional looking. White button up shirt hung to his body, Mark having spent a good twenty minutes just bending and flattening down the collar. He kept the top couple of buttons open, just to let his lightly silver feathers puff out; Mark refused to wear a tie. Suit pants, and jacket, were a dark indigo blue; it popped perfectly against his lighter silver feathers and pale yellow retinas. Clothing was heavy, and Mark found himself wriggling in his outfit. He hated this, but oh, the things he did for love.

Mark knew Falcon was a professional man. A stickler, with high standards and a cranky attitude to boot. Falcon was never seen without his suit; it was practically glued to him. Mark, while preferring something more casual, wanted to impress his Gravesy, and had opted for this suit - one of which he had to order weeks in advance just for their date night. He huffs quietly to himself, Falcon better appreciate the effort he goes through to make them happy. Mark had already mentally decided he’s getting rid of this suit as soon as he can. He’s happy enough for Falcon to see him in this stiff, cardboard like fabric once, but he doesn’t want them to ask to see him in this same outfit. Oh yeah, he’s going to burn it. He’s never doing anything in a suit again; this is a one time only thing, even for date night.

Deciding he needs to stop whining, even though it’s one of the things he did best, Mark fishes out his phone from the jackets inside pocket. He was only planning on checking his thousands of notifications, however, eyes widened when he noticed the time. He was already ten minutes late! Mark began to curse beneath his breath, rushing around to grab his keys, wallet, and anything else he thinks he’ll need. Sure, Mark was planning on being fashionably late, he needed to make an entrance after all, but, he was supposed to be showing up at the cinema in a few minutes. God he hopes Falcon forgives him. Running out of Waddle, he yells back to his security, telling them to watch over the place - like they wouldn’t. Jumping into the back of his limo, Mark had barely buckled up, as he barked at his driver to get him to the cinema ASAP. He doubts it, but Mark hopes Falcon’s a little late himself, just so he feels a little less bad about not being on time himself.

–

Falcon stood, back leaned against the brick walls that made up the theatre. He was frowning to himself, the large bird of prey constantly checking his watch. He’d been waiting twenty minutes already; granted, he had turned up ten minutes early, just so he can subside the nerves sparking within him. It’s not his first date with Mark, far from it, but getting some alone time with the parrot that had captured his heart always made his stomach churn with a storm of butterflies. What was probably not helping his growing anxiety, was the fact Mark was so late, and the fact he had left his suit hung up at home. He enjoyed his suits, finding the thick, silken fabric soft and surprisingly comforting. It made him feel grounded in a strange sense, comfortable and relaxed.

Mark didn’t usually do suits. He constantly teased Falcon about how he needed to 'loosen’ up and 'ditch the suit’ every now and again. Well, Falcon had done just that. Though he already missed those thicker, professional looking fabrics, he was doing this for Mark. Doing this to make them happen. Black skinny jeans clung to his hips, and thighs, 'fashionable’ tears over the knees. Usual button up blouse was back home, Falcon opting for a long sleeved, spruce blue jumper. He had rolled up the sleeves to the elbow, allowing some fresh air to reach his feathers. Brick dust was beginning to cling to his back from where he leaned against the building, Falcon staring at the floor. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, fingers curled tightly around a bouquet of flowers. He picked up roses, he thought Mark would like those.

Another glance at his watch, it’s nearly been thirty minutes. Their movie will be starting soon, and okay, sure, the first part of every film is already adverts but, that doesn’t mean Falcon wanted to be late for those. Sighing, he ignores the few glances that other visitors are throwing his way, most people are just giggling or checking him out anyway. He can tell by the way they’re grinning at him, a few of them daring to brush passed him as they walked back, trying to grab his attention. Sorry strangers, he’s taken, and loyal to the heart, he’s not interested in anyone but Mark. Lightly fiddling with one of roses petals, feeling how soft they are, Falcon does his best not to let disappointment to start weighing him down. From the feels of things, Mark isn’t coming. Probably got wrapped up in some internet argue and lost track of time.

Standing up, Falcon idly tugs down his shirt; it’s constantly riding up thanks to his exposed tail feathers. Glancing down at the roses he had bought, Falcon figures it’ll be best for him to just head home, get the flowers into some water, and sort himself out some dinner. He turns, starting to walk away, only to hear the sound of tires coming to a screeching halt. He turns, the scent of burning rubber thick and disgusting. Falcon blinks, smiling starting to lift to his hooked bill. He knows that limo. It’s Mark’s…they best have a good reason for being so late.

The parrot stumbles out of the limo, nearly falling on his own ass as he did. Huffing loudly, he quickly pats himself down, neatening himself up for the adoring people currently surrounding him. Anything to get those celebrity snaps huh. Slamming the door shut, Mark breathes out, straightening out his jacket. He looks around, gaze soon resting on a certain bird of prey. Hues drag themselves up and down, Mark’s beak slowly parting. He couldn’t believe that Falcon was still here, and that he’d actually taken his advice to loosen up and wear something that wasn’t his suit. He feels himself starting to blush, warmth blossoming across his cheeks, silvers feathers fluffing.

Falcon feels his own plumage beginning to puff up. Arm lifts, hand rubbing the back of his neck. Mark looked nice…really nice. He doesn’t even think he’d ever seen Mark in a suit and, well, he thinks it suits him well. Falcon chuckles quietly to himself at the little pun he had thought up. Walking closer, he smiles down at Mark, who was grinning himself. The parrot sheepishly rubs at his arm, twisting his foot against the floor,

“Hey Gravesy,” Mark murmurs, “Sorry I’m so late.”

“It’s alright, I wasn’t waiting too long.”

They both know it’s a lie, but, it’s nice for Falcon to at least try and soothe Mark and tell him it’s okay. Falcon blinks, soon holding out the bunch of roses to Mark,

“I uhm…bought these for you.”

Mark took them, plastic crinkling beneath his touch. He breathes in deeply, sighing peacefully at the wonderful floral scent that surrounds him. Smiling, Mark bows his head, scarlet tail feathers twitching behind him,

“They’re beautiful, thank you Gravesy.”

Hugging the bouquet in one arm, Mark begins to feel around his jacket. His patting soon starts to grow more frantic and panicked, Mark chuckling awkwardly. He soon groans, mentally kicking himself. One of Falcon’s eyebrow raise,

“Are you okay?”

“I totally spaced!” Mark exclaimed, “I had something to give you but I completely forgot it at home…" 

"Well…I suppose you’ll have to take me home tonight then,” Falcon smirks, throwing out the flirtatious remark with a wink.

Mark fluttered his eyelashes, soon giggling. Shuffling closer, he cuddles up to Falcon’s side, the bird of prey immediately curling a large arm around their slender being. Holding them against him, Falcon begins to lead them towards the cinema entrance. Mark leans his head back, beaming up at Falcon,

“Yanno, if 'no-suit-Falcon’ is more of a flirt, maybe I should ban suits from Waddle,” Mark idly suggests, “Force you to wear more casual clothing more often.”

“Guess I’ll have to become a rule breaker,” Falcon shrugs off,

“Ooh look at you, mister rebellious,” Mark teases, “I like both ideas though, means I get to punish you." 

Falcon feels his face growing warm thanks to the comment, tail feathers twitching behind him,

"Stop that,” Falcon lightly scolds,

“Make me." 

Leaning down, Falcon’s hooked beak lightly taps against Mark’s. The second the parrot tilts his head back, Falcon snags a kiss from them, one that Mark accepts and trills against. Pulling away, Falcon purrs,

"There, now stop.”

“Oh…I suppose I can,” Mark agrees with a melodramatic sigh, “For now at least." 

Falcon snickered, walking them both to the ticket counter. The movie had already started, which the counter clerk points out, but they don’t mind. Paying, the two of them stroll towards their screening room, ready to kick off date night properly - even if it is a belated start.


	7. GravesBeaks Week 3.0: Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s bed time; they all fall asleep together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's Prompts: Sleepy/Good night/Good morning  
> Went with Sleep and Good night   
> Enjoy!  
> \- Kezzie

The sun had said goodnight an hour ago, the burning star disappearing beneath the horizon to go to bed. Ink black bled into the sky, a thousand stars decorating every inch of the darkness. The streetlamps had flickered on, though, most of the city was going to sleep. Duckburg’s bustling life came to a halt, as people lay their read to rest, and dream peacefully through out the night. An ushered silence ghosted across the city, serenity resting, a blanket of tranquility.

Boyd was sat between his parents, the young robot clad in his pyjamas already. A thick, light blue one piece, covered in white stars; Mark had thought it was utterly adorable and snapped it up for Boyd. It was a little big for him, but Boyd claimed it was comfortable and would constantly wear it if he was allowed. He was half slouched over, freshly cleaned feathers lightly puffed up. Falcon had his arm on the back of the sofa, the large of the three leaned back as he silently watched the news; a slow day it seemed. Mark was preoccupied with his phone, thumbs tapping away as he responded to the thousands of comments he was always flattered with.

It’s peaceful, calm. No more games for tonight, it’s relaxing time. Boyd’s eyes were fluttering shut, heavy eyelids sliding shut, before he’s jog himself back awake. Small body swayed lightly, the little android drifting in and out of sleep. He knew he needed to go into sleep mode soon, but, he didn’t want too. Boyd wanted to stay up with his dads. Sure, they’d still be here tomorrow, they’ve got a brand new day to look forward too, but he doesn’t want to sleep. Not now. Boyd can’t hide it though. As body struggled to stay awake, Boyd soon yawned loudly. Body slumped over, head moving to rest against Papa’s Falcon’s side, cheek cutely pushed up. Falcon blinked, looking down at Boyd. The little parrot shuffled, curling up against them,

“I think a certain robot is sleepy,” Falcon idly states,

“Nu-uh,” Boyd yawns, “Not sleepy.”

Mark, smiling to himself, was quick to open up his camera app, and snap a photo of Boyd curled against his Papa. Sure, he had thousands of photos of Boyd asleep or cuddled up to his dad’s, but he could never truly have enough. Another one added to his collection, Mark opens up the B.O.Y.D app, quickly checking his son’s battery level. Twelve percent..oh yeah, someone’s very sleepy,

“I agree, I think it’s bed time,” Mark smiles, “You’re already at twelve percent Boyd.”

“But I’m not…” Another yawn, one arm lifting so Boyd can rub his eye, “Tired.”

“Right, course not,” Falcon chuckles, “Alright Boyd, bed time.”

Grabbing the remote, Falcon turns the TV off. Honestly, neither Mark or Falcon were against Boyd staying awake, it’s more it could be dangerous for him. Boyd had never ran out of battery before, and they didn’t want to risk it happening. After all, technology can be damaged if their charge depletes completely; they didn’t even want to fathom the idea of something happening to Boyd. 

Falcon carefully shuffled, large hands taking a gentle hold of Boyd’s sides. Though made of metal, Boyd was incredibly light. Scooping them up, Falcon held his bundle of joy to his chest, smiling at the way their head lulls back, before rolling to the side and pressing against his chest. Boyd wriggles, getting comfortable against his Papa Falcon. Mark, once more, had loaded up his camera, and was now recording the sight; he wanted every moment, every second, of Boyd’s life recorded. Tenderly cradling Boyd back and forth, Falcon began to carry them upstairs, Mark close behind him.

Bedroom door gently shut behind him, light on but dimmed. Falcon lightly sat Boyd down on his bed, their body sinking into the thick, overly comfy mattress. Mark crouched down by the edge of the bed, grabbing a few cables that were always plugged in. While Falcon went to close the curtains, no need for the inevitably morning sun to disturb their boy, Mark was left to ‘tuck in time’. Carefully opening a small panel on the back of Boyd’s neck, Mark plugged them in. Boyd, carefully, laid down after being 'put to charge’, knowing he needed to be careful to keep the cables in. Head lightly nuzzled against the soft, cloud like pillows he owned. Mark coo’d quietly, tugging up his blankets, tucking Boyd in for the night,

“Mmh…Daddy, Papa?” Boyd asks, voice soft, “Can I have a bedtime story please?”

Mark checked his app, it would take at least fifteen minutes for Boyd’s sleep mode to fully kick in. He flashes a smile in Falcon’s direction,

“I think Papa Falcon can manage a bedtime story.”

Of course, it would be up to Falcon to read the story. He didn’t mind it, but it was obvious that it’s because they both wanted him to 'do the voices’ as he read out some contrived fairy tale. He couldn’t say 'no’ to Boyd though, not when they’re giving him such an adorably tired smile, and when they asked so politely. Heading over to a bookshelf, Falcon grabs one of the many stories they had bought for Boyd. Mark insisted on just getting a Kindle, but there was something far more relaxing and appealing about getting to open a hard back book and flicker through pages. At least, it was appealing to Falcon.

Heading over to Boyd’s bed, Falcon takes a perch on the bed. There’s far more space than needed for Boyd, the android barely taking up a sixth of his bed; there are more pillows and blankets taking up space than Boyd himself. Mark took a seat on the other side of Boyd. He laid down, lightly caressing Boyd’s face; he yawns in response, snuggling down into his mountain of pillows. Falcon, when he’s sure everyone is comfortable, leaned back himself, and began to read.

Boyd tried his best to stay awake, the small child hanging onto every word Falcon said. He wanted to hear the end of the story, after all, the Princess had only just made it to the ball. He wanted to know if he got her chance to dance and meet the Prince. Sadly, Boyd couldn’t fight his programming. The lights in his blue hues faded, eyes sliding shut. Body grew heavy, sinking into the bed as he fell asleep. Mark smiled, continuing to stroke their face. The way their body lightly twitched, the soft movements of their chest as they began to peacefully dream. Mark still couldn’t believe someone would’ve abandoned such an innocent, precious person in the trash like that. It was the greatest find, and Mark would do everything and anything he could for Boyd.

Falcon closed the story book, leaning over the bed and carefully placing it on the floor; he can put it away later. He too began to admire Boyd. It was odd in a way. Boyd was a robot, and yet, he was so life like and human. Really, if it wasn’t for the fact Mark had told him that Boyd was made of metal, Falcon would’ve never guessed. He was smiling to himself, chest swollen with pride and love for his son. It was funny, when Falcon had first learned of Boyd, he had been utterly terrified of becoming a father. With no good role models, it’s not like he knew how he needed to act, how to be a good parental role. Now though…now he knew how to take care of Boyd. How to make sure they always knew they were loved, and safe, and cared for.

“They’re so precious,” Mark whispers, 

“Take after their father,” Falcon chuckles.

Warmth touches Mark’s cheeks, but he doesn’t take his gaze off of Boyd. Sometimes they both did this… just, lay with their son and admire him. They both loved and adored him so much, much like how Boyd looked up to his parents. Their small family of free was a stronghold of affection, of care,

“We should probably head off to bed ourselves,” Falcon murmurs, “It’s getting late.”

“Just five more minutes Gravesy,” Mark murmurs.

They always say that, always say 'just five more minutes’, but they both know they’ll be here for far longer. Five minutes soon becomes ten, and then twenty minutes. It’s hard not to let time slip away from them when taking care of Boyd. As expected, time got away from them. Even when Falcon yawned, and Mark had to shake his head in order to force the need to rest away from him, the continued to lay there. Falcon was the first to shut his eyes, only for a few seconds, and sleep claimed him. Mark, though growing exhausted himself, was able to take a few more photo’s of Boyd and Falcon sleeping. He couldn’t help it; he just wanted pictures of everything they did. With a heavy yawn, Mark’s own head hit the pillows. He supposes he can let his eyes rest for a little bit. Dopey smile on his bill, Mark’s eyes fluttered shut, as he allowed himself to drift off to dreamland. 

It was beginning to be a habit of theirs, all falling asleep in Boyd’s bed, cuddled up together. None of them were complaining about it though, nor did they have nay plans to change it any time soon.


	8. GravesBeaks Week 3.0: Day 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beach day! Falcon helps Boyd face his fears of water, and then sandcastles are built.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts: Memorial Day celebration/Free day  
> Memorial day isn't really a thing in the UK, so I went for a free day. Decided to have it as a small continuation from day's 5 prompts.
> 
> GravesBeaks week was fun! Thank you for reading all the chapters, I hope you enjoyed them!  
> Thank you.  
> Enjoy!  
> \- Kezzie

The sun was blazing that day, not a single cloud in the bright blue sky. The sound of ocean ways washing upon the shore was loud, only partially masked by the various voices and laughter as people flocked to the beach. With such wonderful weather like this, it would be silly to not to enjoy it while it lasted. Sure, there were dozens of people around, so finding a suitable spot to relax without being disturbed too much would be quite the task, but it was better than spending the entire day cooped up inside.

Boyd’s hands held onto Mark’s and Falcon’s tightly, the small parrots feet pattering quickly in order to keep up with his dad’s natural long strides. Falcon was carrying a large cooler, full to the brim with way too many snacks and drinks for the three of them. He had a blanket thrown over his shoulder, and a parasol beneath his arm. Mark himself was holding a large, brightly coloured bucket; there was a small shovel inside that clanked as they walked. It did mean Mark couldn’t use his phone for a few minutes, and he was happy to whine about it as they walked. Falcon told him to ‘shush’ and that they can use it soon, they’re almost there. 

Boyd wasn’t really paying attention to his dad’s conversations. He was overwhelmed by the sights, sounds and smells. He never been to the beach before, or walked down a boardwalk. The scent of salt and seaweed was pleasant for the android, far different and very refreshing compared to the usual scent of pollution that clings to Duckberg’s air. Alongside that salt smell was fresh fish and fried food from the various cafe’s and restaurants that lined the shore front. Boyd knew they had snacks with them, but, he couldn’t help but be enticed by the various junk food surrounding him. The sounds of a nearby arcade, one that was meant to steal as much change as possible with fixed games and claw machines, and laughter and people in general surrounded him. Boyd did enjoy the quiet tranquillity of their home, away from everyone, but it was nice to be reminded of all the life that did exist. The sights though were breath taking. People were flying kites, thousands of colours above them. The sand was golden and the ocean clear and -

…Ocean. Water. 

Just as they’re about to step onto the sound, Boyd comes to a sudden halt. Body going completely stiff, and unable to move, Falcon and Mark nearly stumbled when their son suddenly refused to move. The pair of them exchanged a look, before looking down at Boyd. His eyes were wide, pupils shrunk down to pin pricks, lost in a sea of pale eggshell yellow,

“Boyd?” Mark speaks up, crouching down in an attempt to get his attention, “Boyd, are you okay?”

“…Ocean…” Was all Boyd could quietly whimper. 

They frowned. They thought Boyd was getting over his fear of water, especially with the fact that Mark had made their body completely waterproof now. Their boy making strides in getting close to larger body’s of water. Looks like they had gone too far, expecting him to be near the ocean without worries,

“It’s okay Boyd,” Falcon soothes, wanting to avoid any potential meltdowns, “You don’t have to go near the ocean if you don’t want too.”

“Yeah, you can sit with daddy and papa on the blanket, or build sandcastles,” Mark agrees with a grin, “Going to the beach doesn’t mean you have to go near all that water.”

Boyd gulps, nodding his head slowly. Joints force themselves to unlock, knees shaking as he starts walking again. He’s being silly, he knows this, his dad’s won’t let anything happen to him. 

Sand was warm beneath their talons, Boyd’s fear of the ocean subsided as he enjoyed the strange new sensation. It wasn’t unpleasant, but different from the concrete and tarmac he was used too. It took a bit of searching, until they found a nice open spot for them to relax in. Sadly for Boyd, they were a too close to the water for his own comfort; then again, for him, being right at the back of the sand was still too close for him. Shoving the parasol into the sand, Falcon set up the blanket and cooler for them, the latter item good to stop their blanket from being kicked over or blowing up from any wind. Mark is quick to take a perch beneath the shade. Bucket and shove on the blanket too, Boyd ignoring it for now, the three of them got situated.

Mark tugged the sunglasses that were hooked onto his thin, yellow shirt, putting them on; there’s no need for him to wear them, as he wasn’t planning on going out in the sun at all while here. Falcon himself had ditched the suit, even he knew now was not the weather for such stuffy clothing. Replaced with a white shirt, and khaki pair of knee length swimming shorts, Falcon laid back, using his elbows to keep himself propped up. Boyd, though normally in shorts, had replaced them with dark blue swimming trunks, not that he had any intentions of going near the water. He was wearing a pretty baggy white shirt, and a small hat; they couldn’t get sun burned, but, he could potentially over heat if not careful. 

Sat crossed legged, Boyd stared at the ocean. It was no where near them, but, he was still scared of the tide suddenly coming in and washing them away. Fingers curled against his shorts, limbs trembling. Mark and Falcon could see that he was still afraid, even with the distance. They wanted him to have a good, first beach day but, it seemed like with his fear still deeply embedded in his core, he wasn’t going to be able to have fun,

“Boyd,” Mark speaks up, “Would you like to build some sand castles?”

Maybe it will be a good little distraction for them, take their mind off the water. Boyd doesn’t respond though. The parrot bites on his bottom lip, sending an unsure glance Falcon’s way; it just screams 'what do we do’. Falcon quirked his mouth, soon sitting up properly. He crawls closer, kneeling next to Boyd. He gently places a hand on their back, offering the small android a kind smile,

“Boyd, you don’t have to be afraid of the ocean,” Falcon tries to soothe him again, “There’s nothing scary about it.”

“There’s tons of scary things about it,” Boyd says something, “It’s big and scary and you can get swept away!”

“We wouldn’t let you be swept away,” Falcon tells them, “The ocean isn’t going to swallow you whole.”

Mark was knelt next to the other side of Boyd, grinning at them,

“Yeah, me and papa Falcon wouldn’t let anything happen to you, you know we wouldn’t,” Mark chirps up,

“But the water…”

“We promise Boyd,” Mark coos, “We won’t let it hurt you.”

“Would you like papa to show you the water?” Falcon offers. 

Boyd stares up at them, blinking, a little confused by what his papa Falcon meant. Falcon, gently, takes a hold of Boyd’s sides, lifting them up and holding them up against their chest. Boyd, naturally, wraps his arms around Falcon’s neck, side pressed to their chest. Falcon carefully stands up, Mark having caught onto Falcon’s plans; he grins at them, quickly getting his phone out so he can try and record the little bonding moment that’s about to unfold. 

Falcon is slow as he strolls towards the ocean, soft sand turning hard as he reaches where the sea claws up to. Boyd’s grip tighten harshly, some of Falcon’s feathers being tugged on thanks to it. He clenches his jaw as his plumage is pulled on, but he says nothing; he knows Boyd doesn’t mean to hurt them. Ocean washes over Falcon’s talons, the larger bird’s feathers bristling naturally. Boyd feels it, eyes widening,

“Papa are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” He laughs softly, “It’s just a little cold, that’s all." 

He continues to wade forward, stopping when he’s about knee high. Waves roll over, hitting against his legs. Salt water splashed, lightly wetting his trunks and shirt. Boyd blinked, staring down, beak slightly parted in surprise. He’s still terrified, but, not as much. His grip on Falcon loosened as he started to relax, blue hues staring at the clear water. Falcon smiled, long, hooked beak gently nuzzling against Boyd’s cheek, comforting them still,

"See, the water’s not scary,” Falcon tells them, “We haven’t been swept away, have we?”

“No Papa…" 

"And I’m not hurt, am I?”

“No…no you’re not Papa.”

Smile slowly tugs back onto Boyd’s beak, red tail feathers twitching. He gives a little laugh, silver feathers starting to fluff up,

“I know you had a bad experience at that pool party, but, you don’t have to be afraid forever,” Falcon tells them, “You know, no matter what, me and dad will never let anything hurt you again.”

Boyd nods his head, grinning brighter,

“Papa?” He calls up, “Can you let me touch the water?”

Falcon smiles, feeling pride starting to swell within him. He crouches down, leaning Boyd forward. The small parrot stretches out his arm, fingers spreading. There’s a brief second of hesitation, before he allows the water to wash over his fingertips. Immediately, he flinches, pulling his arm back. Papa Falcon was right; it’s really cold. Boyd though, soon tries again, allowing his fingers to dip beneath the shallow waves. He blinks slowly. It’s…nice. Cold, yes, but refreshing in the hot weather. He soon leans forward more, hand disappearing beneath the water completely. He laughs softly, smiling brightly. Boyd twists around in Falcon’s grip, other hand joining the first. Falcon held him carefully, having to move his head back as Boyd lightly kicked his feet with excitement.

The water was great! Sure, he didn’t want to be in it completely, or be near it without Papa Falcon, but he was actually allowing parts of himself to go under and he was so happy. Falcon soon lifts Boyd back up, standing fully. Hands were dripping, Boyd still giggling to himself,

“See?” Falcon asks, “I told you it would be okay.”

Pressing a soft kiss to Boyd’s temple, Falcon twists around, walking back towards their beach blanket. Mark had his phone out the entire time, having recorded the entire scene. He was cooing with his own sense of pride and joy, so happy that Boyd had managed to get that close to the ocean, and because the sight was so utterly adorable. His twitter were going to be uber jealous that they couldn’t have seen it in person themselves. Falcon plopped Boyd back down onto the blanket, the tiny parrot grinning at his dad,

“Dad dad did you see!” He exclaimed, feathers fluffed,

“Sure did kiddo!” Mark leans forward, ruffling Boyd hair, “So proud of you! How’s the water?”

“Super cold, wanna feel?”

Before Mark can even react, Boyd moved forward, wet hands grabbing Mark’s arm. He squawks in surprise at the freezing touch, Mark starting to squirm. Boyd laughs, not realising that Mark didn’t find it as funny as he, and Papa Falcon (he was smiling the entire time), did. After a second, Boyd let go of him, still giggling lightly,

“Cold cold, super cold!” Mark whimpers, “Okay, Papa Falcon is in charge of the water, I’m in charge of blankets and sand castles." 

Falcon sits down on the blanket. Popping open the cooler, he takes out a small carton of juice, handing it over to Boyd, and grabbing a bottle of pop for Mark and himself,

"Alright, sounds fair,” Falcon agrees, “As long as you don’t get sand on me.”

“No promises,” Mark claims, unscrewing the cap and taking a long swig. 

Boyd left his carton on the blanket, not opened. He had already changed his attention to his bucket and shovel. Crawling over so he was under the parasol, already knowing his dad wouldn’t want to move out from under the shade, Boyd grabbed his bucket and scooted to the edge of the blanket. With Mark holding the bucket still, Boyd began to scoop large mounds of sand in, patting the grains down until they were perfectly flat. At some point, Falcon sat up, and grabbed Boyd’s juice and popped it back in the cooler; no need to leave it in the sun so it would grow sour. Falcon laid on the blanket, hands resting on his stomach. He smiled softly, watching his two boys work, while his legs dried off in the sun. 

With the bucket full, Mark and Boyd carefully turned the bucket it over. Boyd gave a gentle pat to the plastic, before they both pulled the bucket off. Surprisingly, it didn’t crumble. Not bad for their first attempt! Soon, they repeated the action. For hours and hours, they filled the bucket and used it to build thousands of castles, Boyd making sure not to get any sand on the blanket, or near Papa Falcon, even as the sand castle walls now surrounded them. They only stopped halfway through, just to have something to eat and for Boyd to collect seashells; Mark nearly cried when he saw Boyd go near the ocean, by himself, to grab the decorations he wanted. Falcon totally wasn’t caught wiping his eyes as pride got the better of him. He was just…so happy for his boy. There were still going to be a few hurdles when it came to his fear of water, but, this was still amazing and for once, Falcon hoped Mark had snapped a photo. He had. 

When Boyd returned, all three of them worked on, delicately, decorating the various sand buildings he and Mark had spent all afternoon building. People were filtering out, some even pointing at all the castles and taking pictures of the parrots work. Boyd grinned, waving at everyone, soft trills leaving him when he was complimented on his work. Mark, of course, wanted to point out he helped but, managed to swallow back his pride so Boyd can have a bit of glory. Besides, seeing Boyd beaming was totally worth letting all the credit go to him. 

With the day drawing to a close, they decided it was best to pack up and head home. Boyd was a little disappointed to have to say goodbye to all his castles, but Mark assured him he had tons of pictures, and that next time, they can build even more castles. Hell, Mark will even get bigger and better buckets, and over shapes, so they be more intricate and decorated. Boyd nodded his head in excitement at the idea. Helping back up their things, they soon began to walk towards the path. Boyd had one hand in Falcon’s, his other in Mark’s, just like before. He smiled, happy he got to experience the ocean, and feel the sand between his talons. Falcon and Mark already knew it was going to be a bit of a nightmare cleaning Boyd that night, but, it was worth it to see him so happy.


End file.
